Notes1: This story was on a single document and only went up to near the end of Fuu's chapter (being this one). Since it became longer than intended, I decided to split the character-centric portions into three chapters. However, in all fairness, I do have this habit of letting my mind wander and construct the further I go along with the story, even though the bare bones, the foundation, has been laid out ahead of time so there's the need to fill in the blanks, i.e. the story speaks for itself and I try to accommodate.

Notes2: I had forgotten to mention in the last chapter, but given the events our nameless historian lays out to give his class a chronological context this universe would more or less be set in the manga adaptation; this is mainly because I wrote this as I was reading MKR1. On the other hand, this fanfic can be safely read under the assumption that it takes place after either the anime, manga, or game (I'm excluding the OVA because, from what I've seen, it's set in an alternate universe where Cephiro is intertwined with Earth, if only very loosely).

A very minor note: I think the biggest travesty - and my biggest gripe - with MKR1 in general is: why wasn't the concept of the Knights' sisterhood carried over to the anime? I loved seeing Umi going from spoiled rich chick (who, understandably, would rather not have so great a role as 'Legendary Magic Knight' thrust upon someone of her age) to being larger than life while having that dash of smartass humor and commentary I'd equate to seeing in gangsters...but it's a very far-fetched comparison to make, as I have a fondness for trickster/slick types (and Umi is a far cry from both, though she has the most character development out of all the Knights).

Another note: Although Umi is my favorite character, I would have to put Fuu as a second above Hikaru. Why? Because Fuu is a gangster; ditzy she might be at times and a nerd for RPGs (that's not an insult to her, that's a compliment coming from someone who loves CRPGs, ARPGs and open-world RPGs), but the one moment in the manga that impressed me the most was her threatening to kill Caldina. I'm like 'LOL damn, this dork has fangs!' It's that one thing that sets Fuu above someone like, say, Ami Mizuno of Sailor Moon, who, while similar to her in terms of personality, doesn't quite have as much the same drive to go so far as to outright imply let alone intend to murder an enemy in defense of her team.

ii.
vindr (wind)

They heard the Call at night, when they were fast asleep. Mokona heard it, too, and with high little "Puu, puu!"s he hopped off the windowsill, crossed the floor, and leaped onto the edge of the bed. He waddled around to the side and came to a stop, staring at them with crinkled eyes and a benevolent, cherubic smile.

Whether or not the thought of waking them crossed his mind didn't matter. No one, nothing, would be able to find them in the house he conjured for them in the shadows of the moorland tucked away from the main road.

And they did not; the Wilds were upon the Knights of Prophecy, not a spell of compulsion, but by their own design. The dreamwalk had occurred at the same time, but this facet would be lost to time and history would be unable to pinpoint the exact moment the congruency emerged. However, if there was one thing scholars, animists, and the circles of draumirs that cropped up following the post-Pillar reconstruction could agree upon, it was deciphering the order in which the Knights became aware of the Rune Gods turned their Sight upon them.

Fuu was the last to open the ley line within her, not waiting even a minute to insist to Mokona that she allow Clef to give her the means to reach inside and call up the magic that would heal Umi—who had almost perished from Alcyone's ambush—and Hikaru—who went on the defense in response—of their wounds with the breath of the wind. It would come as a surprise to her the following morning at how easily she gave in to sleep, for the girls had taken to peering at shadows between the trees and then the scrubby dunes and buttes and hoodoos the deeper they pressed deeper into the moors toward the badland. Tonight she was sandwiched between them; she had intended to do so and managed, in that sweet, polite way that brooked absolutely no argument from Umi ("I said I'm fine, sis! If I didn't drop dead earlier, then I won't drop dead now!") and more encouragement from Hikaru ("Don't be shy! It's like a sleepover!" "It already is!" Umi groaned before rolling over just as Fuu let herself fall into the spot she was just in) got her spot. She had wondered before drifting off if they knew she wanted to be in the middle so as to keep them close to her where she could see them, for it was the closest to death they had ever been, and Fuu never wanted to feel so helpless and alone in this strange world without them by her side ever again. If they should wake from night terrors, she would be right there to assuage them.

But there were no nightmares to be had, not from Hikaru and Umi and neither from Fuu. Instead, Fuu awoke to the cry of a bird, deep and rising from the depths of its chest and rising up out of its throat. Her heart had leaped into her mouth at that moment, she stood up tall and straight and quivering like a rabbit ready to fly for the hills, and she whirled around to see where it was in the sky or its shadow was about to fall upon her. Instead she beheld a tree, so massive and thick across the trunk as to be mythological; it reminded her of the story of Yggdrasil, whose crown was green and was gifted with many boughs that touched the stars; its roots extended well and past the earth, to Urðarbrunnr and Hvergelmir and Mímisbrunnr. From this distance she could hold forth her hands and cup it between them, and she could scarcely marvel at its majesty were she to stand at its base. This tree, Yggdrasil or no, towered over snow-capped mountains wreathed in fog against a red and blue sky made dusky by a hidden sun (or the shimmering of its leaves) as a backdrop. It was not the most peculiar thing she had seen in Cephiro, for there were floating mountains and springs that existed in two-dimensional planes, but the sky put her in a position she was steadily becoming accustomed to, and that was being torn between her gut instinct and her heart. The former demanded she run for her life and hide, though the land was flat with a tall white-yellow scrub that went up to her knees. The latter, however, did not quail from the peculiar sky; on the contrary, she welcomed it, and felt a peace that made it seem as though she were drowning and made her head light.

So Fuu looked to the tree that was not Yggdrasil; and she gasped, for out of the sky came a creature whose wings beat slow and powerful, tossing winds that blew back the grass and stirred leaves and a curious dandelion fluff into the air. Yet the gusts did not blow her away. They should have, but she remained as she stood, and watched as the beast grew closer and closer, giving voice once more. It was indeed a bird, and indeed very large (but not so much as the tree). Its plumage was the dark green of forests untouched by industrial machines and white as clouds, its beak gold as the sun in colored Kodak photographs, and its talons as gilded as filigree on parchment; they were curved and wicked as scythes. It flapped one, two, three times, and kicking its legs out descended unto the ground a ways from her. It tucked its wings against itself and pointed its beak at her.

There was a jewel upon its brow between its eyes. Both were the same color as its feathers, but the gem caught the light. It sparkled in a way the wind blows through the trees and makes the shadows dash across the floor before settling. It was as though Fuu was staring into the sun itself and could not be blinded by it nor be rendered unto ash by the strength of its monstrous heat like poor Icarus and his wings. In hindsight, it would be foolish to turn her back on this fine, graceful creature of the sky, but it would also be foolish to keep her eyes on it and make it think she was challenging it and thus would stir into a rage.

It did not. It did not make any sort of angry movements at all.

It continued to stare at her, silent and unmoving.

There's no telling that if I turn away, it will come after me, she thought. But it might react if I go toward it, with or without showing fear it might take advantage of. Then again, it might be friendly. It's certainly no ordinary bird.

No, not with a jewel on its forehead and being of such size it would put a great whale shark to shame. This was a beast one could ride on in fantasy books or role-playing games, like dragons or griffons; and wasn't this world just like that? Earning experience not through points by the skin of her teeth and the knowledge to counter the enemy's magic, their summons, and their advances? Learning how to use magic that was more than cheap parlor tricks for a laugh and pretending to saw in half the box the magician's participant was in? Birds like this were probably a dime a dozen somewhere in other parts of the world, just as there would be animals and creatures as alien and unknowable as Mokona.

But how different could they be from those on Earth? Magic was one thing to distinguish them from; it was what made Mokona and Fyula and Cresta unique. Fuu might be young, but even she knew that no matter where she was and how different beasts looked and adapted to their environment, their nature would never change—and animals were smarter than they let on.

What should I do?

The bird cocked its head at her. It seemed almost…questioning.

What are you? She wanted to ask it, and before she had any notion of what she was doing her body moved.

She took a step forward. Then a second, and then a third.

Soon she was walking—slowly, so as not to startle it, and tentatively. The bird crowed softly and stood up on its talons, fully alert, but still it did not move even as she drew closer to it and she feared, irrationally but not without due cause, her heart really was going to pop out of her mouth or burst from her chest.

But then a curious thing washed upon her, one that should have surprised her but did not; and that her heartbeat slowed and the heat of fright got cool and calm. A spring did not come to her step but neither did it falter. She maintained her pace until she was standing right in front of the bird.

She looked up at it. It looked down at her.

She could see her reflection staring back wondrously in its eyes. They were deep pools of jade, just like the grass at her feet.

She stared, and it was as though she was falling, falling, the wind passing through her, the sky stretching all around her as a globe containing her therein. There was no land to catch her, no sea to slow the speed of her descent. There was only sky and cloud and grass.

Although the urge was strong and the sensation of her stomach's turning querulous yet, Fuu did not look away. Doing so was not an option, and so she stood and allowed herself to drop even deeper into the abyss. Her breath constricted; she was surprised there was any breath left in her at all. "Who are you?" she asked, voice steady. What are you? was the unspoken question.

She did not think the bird would speak. In a way, it was silly of her to think she would talk to it and expect an answer; but it clicked its beak, once, and though it closed a voice could be heard—all around and inside her, clear and booming in the empty stretches. There was the hint of machinery lying underneath, not like gears turning in a clock but seamless as the lights on a computer starting up on its own. "Lo, child, for I am Windham the Machine of Wind, Phoenix of the Rounded Sea, Spirit of Cephiro."

"Wait! You're…a Rune God?" Fuu exclaimed. "A…Machine?"

"Aye. I am One of Three Runes-Upon-Making when the world was young. I was One when once the Roads were wrought and the Pillars bore them weight."

"But…you're a bird! You don't look like a machine."

"Thus is the form I have taken for thee. Your name has been written among the stars, and so I clothed thyself as a creature of the sea-made-round. 'Tis but a mantle you are beholden to."

"I…see. The destiny foretold my coming and that of my friends, so you made yourself a bird so you would be easy for me to recognize."

"Indeed."

"Ah, that makes sense. I think I would have a better time reconciling you as a bird than a flying fish."

"Though they are creatures of flight, they are not of my domain. 'Tis a gift Selece graced the sea-made-round when the Runes were finally carved and the Sphere enclosed from Chaos. It is only I and Rayearth may give breath to the land-made-flat and the sky-made-full with other such similar elementals of import. For this turn of the Wheel, I am made whole again, resplendent in the raiment of my glory."

"This isn't the first time the Magic Knights were called on?"

"Nay, it is not, and only the Void may know if this may indeed be the Final Doom wherewith the Magic Knights will cease to be an unavoidable necessity where all may seem lost."

Fuu nodded, digesting this information. "So it's possible, then," she began, "for there to be a time when the people of Cephiro can stand on their own even with the Magic Knights by their side."

"Where there is a Will, there is a Way. We shall guide them thenceforth with my brothers and their incarnations."

"Of course. Without the Pillar, Cephiro will fall. But…I don't know where you are. How will I find you?"

"Look for me in the sky where the crystals shine brightest, young woman from another world," said Windham, and leaned his head closer. "No cloud or rain or snow or foul demon will hide you from my Sight. There thou will find the answer thou seek."

"The answer," Fuu breathed, and once again her mind traced back to that singular question: Why her? Why her friends? They were only children. Even on the path to Knighthood, what could they accomplish that the people of Cephiro, learned in sword and sorcery and Will, could not?

"Yes," said Windham. "Thou will know why, and then thou will know what to do. This burden thou shan't carry alone."

A burden, Fuu thought. How much worse could it get than a brush with death?

So much worse, she reckoned. There was no telling what would await her on the road ahead.

Unbidden, without warning, she raised her hand and placed it flat upon Windham's jewel. It warmed to her touch, like a wind on a hot summer day.

The Rune God cawed. "Grow, my child!" he declared. "Grow! May your mind be vast and your heart be flourished. Find me, show me, and I shall see for thyself whether you are ready to mantle thee amidst the chilling dark." He glowed a soft, muted green, leaned into her hand, and locked her in his gaze. Her reflection was replaced with that of another face, long and gunmetal grey with yellow eyes and jade helm shaped in the fashion of his mantle. His raiment was like Yggdrassil, his shoulders sun-bright and water-white as bird feathers made damp with dew. He was ancient and he was new; he was asleep among the stars but he was awake and free among the skies, wild and unconstrained.

She had never seemed so small in her life. And yet she did not break.

Fuu stared back, entranced. She no longer felt like falling.

She caught the wind and flew, flew, and that was all she knew.